Harry Potter and the Serpent's Ballad
by Viral Inque
Summary: Harry has just graduated from Hogwart's, but he was one last score to settle before he leaves.
1. Introspection

Harry Potter and the Serpent's Ballad Authors Note: I like the way this one is working out so far and I hope you enjoy it as well. All reviews and criticisms, good or bad, are greatly appreciated.  
  
Chapter 1: Introspection  
  
Nostalgic feeling of the last seven years Harry Potter had spend at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry mulled over in his head as he listened to the dull echo of his footfalls reverberating against the stone hall walls for one last time. Outside, he could hear the cheers and song of the year's graduating class as they enjoyed the final day of their formal educations. In Harry's hand, he clutched his own diploma tightly, as if for fear that it would get away from him somehow.  
  
He had left Ron and Hermoine waiting anxiously at the front gate of the school. They would be heading to the Weasley's for dinner and then straight away to Hermoine's in Harry's enchanted car. Harry would have to bear Hermoine's constant griping about the trouble they were bound to get in one day riding around in the thing, but it had come to be a familiar, if not indispensable, member of their group. Although, it was safe to say that the day was coming when they would find themselves at odds with the Ministry of Magic. Finally, they would head for Sirius', to spend the night before setting off on their holiday to magical Italy just before first light.  
  
First, there was something Harry had to see to before leaving Hogwart's. It was something that had been a bothersome itch in his thoughts for months. He worked over all the scenarios in his mind he had envisioned for the coming encounter as he made his way down the familiar path through the bowels of the school. His nerves began to get the best of him as he strode closer and closer to his destination. He absently pulled the Marauder's Map out of a pocket of his robes and consulted a particular pair of footprints standing in the dungeons.  
  
Harry turned a corner and came to a door. He stopped pensively and stared at the handle of the door. He considered scrapping the whole idea for possibly the hundredth time. He could leave, hop on the Hogwart's Express and just go, and never have to deal with the situation ever again. But if nothing else, his curiosity would not think of it, as it had often gotten the better of him in the last seven years.  
  
"Were you planning on standing there like a fool forever?" carried an oily, sinister voice from within the room and into the hall.  
  
"Professor Snape?" Harry said as he opened the door and strode decisively into the office of the former potions professor. Snape looked up from the old book he had been reading and glared at Harry indignantly. Instantly, Harry was again in year one of his schooling at Hogwart's, and he felt the anxiety of meeting the imposing visage of Professor Snape for the first time. He had always been able to do that; to make Harry feel small and insignificant. Except, nowadays that was usually mixed with a generous amount of contempt.  
  
"I should think so," Snape answered dryly, sending a cloud of moldy dust into the air as he slammed his book shut, "What is it now? Did you think of another way to annoy me and decided you couldn't leave before you graced me with your presence one last time?"  
  
"I was hoping I could have a moment," Harry stated simply, pulling a chair next to Snape's desk before he could protest.  
  
"A moment?" Snape hissed, and "And what, pray tell, would you want a moment for, Potter."  
  
Harry searched for the right words. "I wondered if we could discuss something?" Harry stated, and coursed right into the next sentence before Snape could say anything. He felt a surge of energy from the memories of the unresolved rivalry between Snape and himself. "I'm not sure what I want to get out of this myself, but the last few months it has seemed like something pretty important I need to do. Well, what my question is, well-"  
  
His mind went blank for a moment and he seemed to slip into a sort of trance. Professor Snape's office bled like crayons baking out in the summer sun and then faded to black. Another room slowly materialized around him. It was potions class, before Snape was made Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this last term. He was in his old seat, sandwiched in between Ron and Hermoine in the back of the classroom. Snape was walking towards their table with venom pulsing in the veins of his eyes. He reached them and slammed his hand down on the desk, lifting their cauldrons into the air and then down with a clang. A yellow slime spilled out Hermoine's cauldron and in Ron's lap, where it started smoking.  
  
"Miss Granger," Snape spat, "It would do you well to remember your place in our world, you incessantly whiny little know-it-all."  
  
Harry remembered this day. It was as clear in his mind's eye as it had been the day it had happened. Hermoine had just finished putting Snape in his place, as was her habit when Snape stepped over the line with her. Harry would never tell her so, but the girl did have quite a temper on her. This one particular time was too much for Snape, and he snapped.  
  
Hermoine stared at Snape with mixed horror and contempt. Hermoine was always ready with a comeback to anything, and had become just a little notorious for her temper. "Professor," she gasped, with her jaw shaking and tears welling in her eyes.  
  
The next five minutes fell into a paradoxical abstraction of conflicting emotions so powerful Harry has no memory whatsoever as to what actually took place. He has heard several conflicting, as well as spectacular and bizarre, accounts of what had taken place. One of Harry's both favorite and least favorite one involved him having tried to jam a pencil in Snape's eye. Even Ron and Hermoine couldn't agree as to what happened, although their explanations had made a better sort of sense.  
  
"This is bad," Ron had whimpered, running his hand through his red, red hair nervously.  
  
"What happened?" Harry pleaded as they ran at full speed back to the Gryffindor common room., after potions had been prematurely dismissed. Harry had come to with the three of them standing outside the classroom. He had tried to see what had happened, but it was utter chaos around them.  
  
"You really have no idea what happened?" Hermoine panted and grabbed at her side as they reached the stairs and waited for the staircase to wheel back around towards them.  
  
"No," Harry cried, thinking back to the frustration that had accompanied him learning he was a Parselmouth, "Can someone please tell me what happened!"  
  
When they pulled up onto a landing, Hermoine grabbed them both by the arm and dragged them hurriedly in the direction of an empty classroom. The room was empty in the truest sense of the word, save for a long trunk that sat balanced on a stool in the back. With nowhere to hide, they crowded into a corner of the classroom, away from the line of sight of the door, as well as safely away from the mysterious trunk. Harry whipped out the Marauder's Map and chanted the charm that made it work.  
  
"We shouldn't be going back to the common room," Hermoine leaned in and whispered, They'll be looking for you there."  
  
"What the hell is going on?" he screamed in Hermoine's face, then felt horrible after what he remembered happening in potions, what had set him off. "Sorry, Hermoine. But what did I do?"  
  
"You kind of.. exploded, Harry," Hermoine stated, her brow furrowing in aggravated confusion, then began rambling, "But not really. You looked like you just lost it, and you went for Snape's throat. I think we was actually smiling, Harry, like he had been waiting for the day you did this. I think he might have killed you then, I don't know. But then something came out of you, a strange, warm, yellow light, and filled the whole room. It was blinding, and when it was all over both you and Snape were laid out on the ground."  
  
"What?" Harry cried, and Ron poked him in the ribs to quiet him down. He felt himself getting lightheaded.  
  
"We had a lot of trouble getting you to come around," Ron remarked with concern.  
  
"What happened to Snape?" Harry asked dreamily.  
  
"We don't know, but-" Hermoine cut in, digging in her robes. She pulled out the Marauder's Map and pointed to a cluster of names in Dumbledore's office, "The Ministry is here. They're looking for you, Harry."  
  
"For what?" Harry gasped, finding it increasingly difficult to breath. He grabbed Ron's shoulder to steady himself.  
  
"They're moving. Damn it, they're leaving Dumbledore's office. We have to think of something now," Hermoine jumped up, but shuffled nervously without knowing what to do.  
  
Harry felt nauseous. The room had begun to spin, and he vaguely felt himself drop down hard onto one knee. The room shrank away as his eyelids distorted, then darkened completely, the room around him.  
  
Harry snapped back to Snape's office. He was breathing heavily and there was spittle running down the sides of his mouth. Snape stared at him from behind his desk without interest.  
  
"Drink," Snape said sharply, pushing a glass of water towards Harry. Harry picked up the glass and downed its contents even though he wasn't particularly thirsty.  
  
That day was still one of the worst of Harry's life. There had never been any point in trying to hide from the Ministry. When they finally found them, they escorted Harry out of the school as the entire building gawked at him being paraded out. They took him to the Ministry, where they deposited him neatly into a holding cell, while whispers of what had happened were circulated and embellished around the wizarding world. In the end, being Harry Potter saved him from the more severe punishments he could have suffered, including possible time in Azkaban. He was still on probation till his next birthday though.  
  
"Back with us, Potter?" Professor Snape asked, drumming his fingers on the desk.  
  
"Yes, thanks."  
  
"Wonderful," Snape muttered. He looked at Harry impatiently as he tried to catch his breath, "You were saying?" 


	2. The Burden of Time

Harry Potter and the Serpent's Ballad  
Authors Note: I like the way this one is working out so far and I hope you enjoy it as well. All reviews and criticisms, good or bad, are greatly appreciated.  
  
Chapter 2: The Burden of Time  
  
The room had gone deadly quiet. Harry had asked Snape the question that he had gone there to have answered. How had they gotten to where they were? What was it about Harry that inspired so much hatred from Snape, and why was Harry so prone to return it in spades. He knew now that it wasn't as simple as saying that Snape had been in cahoots with Voldemort and that was why he hated Harry. That had become more and more obvious over the time Harry has known Snape. Snape seemed to stare through him, as if into a rift in the stream of his own consciousness. Harry waited a long time for an answer, watching Snape slip further into his own thoughts.  
  
Finally, he took a long deep breath and locked his hands together in front of him. "Well," he answered wryly, "Seeing as it seems I will never truly be rid of you, I suppose it is high time we, hmm, resolved some of our.. issues. I knew this day would come sooner or later, though I imagined it would have been at the ends of our wands."  
  
Snape slumped back into his chair and fell silent again, and Harry watched patiently, waiting for him to say something. The conversation had already gone better then half of his mental drills had anticipated, not that that gave any indication as to how it would end.  
  
"Your mother," Snape began slowly, instantly piquing Harry's curiosity. Snape took a long breath and shifted around in his seat. He suddenly looked as out of sorts as Harry had ever seen him. "She was perfect," he continued, "I don't say that in any sort of arbitrary or offhanded kind of way. Lily was beautiful, kind, intelligent; and as cunning as she was charming. She was everything anyone could hope for in a person."  
  
Harry edged closer to Snape, taken in by the memories of his mother. Memories were all he had left of his parents. All his pictures and albums had been destroyed last year when Death Eaters had discovered where he was staying with Sirius. He tried to make the image of his parents materialize in his mind.  
  
"Your father, on the other hand," Snape hissed, his face contorting to his more familiar, ominous countenance, "Was an insufferable, arrogant, troublemaker. He had it all- the looks, the charm, the skill- and of course, your mother. He was an excellent student, an unrivaled Quidditch player, and he could talk his way out of any jam he ever found himself in. Everyone hated James Potter as much as they coveted everything that he had. But I hated it him more then them all."  
  
"So you hate me because you hated my father?" Harry chanced to ask.  
  
"Don't try so hard to be a nitwit, Potter," Snape smiled, "Things are hardly ever that simple. Stop interrupting."  
  
"One day, in third year, your father and his buddy, Lupin, wanted me to be their lookout while they snuck out to go to Hogsmeade. You see, that was the kind of stupid stuff they did, just because they could, more or less. Sirius Black was already in detention for trying to break into Filch's office the night before. Anyway, I refused. Why should I help him? I already despised him, and you'd think he'd have noticed, but he was oblivious and we may as well have been the best of friends for all he knew or cared."  
  
Snape paused while he pushed his chair back and rummaged through something under his desk. He produced two packages of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and tossed one of them at Harry dismissively. Harry examined the package suspiciously, not sure, as ever, if Snape was playing at something.  
  
"Your father was used to getting whatever he wanted," Snape dove back into the story, spitting a jelly bean in the wastebasket with a metallic clunk, "So my refusing to help him didn't go over very well. Him and Lupin decided to have a game of keep away with my books."  
  
Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud at the thought of his father and Professor Lupin tossing Hogwart's, A History back and forth over Snape's head. Snape didn't share his enthusiasm, and Harry was forced to wait until he felt like proceeding, watching him periodically spit a bad bean out of his mouth.  
  
"As I was saying," Snape finally said, "With their day essentially spoiled, they decided making a sport out of me would have to do. That is, until your mother came along. She didn't tolerate that sort of behavior, especially not from James, and she ripped into him good. Your father and Lupin eventually apologized and returned my books. I was fine, but Lily fussed over me until I was safely back in my house common room. From what I understand, she didn't speak to your father for several days after that. I was fascinated and, well, smitten by Lily from that day on."  
  
"You were in love with my mother?" Harry exclaimed, intrigued. He ripped open his package of Bertie Botts beans and dug into them like they were a box of Goobers and he was at the theater watching a especially compelling movie.  
  
"Severus Snape, love?" he chuckled, "I've never been especially prone to that particular emotion. But I do suppose that was the closest I've ever been to loving someone, which makes the point just the same. It was fuel on the fire for my hatred of your father. Soon, the whole school thought I was at odds with James for Lily's hand. Eventually, the rumors got so out of hand, James had to say something, for the sake of his pride if nothing else."  
  
The whole thing sounded so exciting to Harry. He hung on Snape's every word as Snape lured him deeper into the story. Snape seemed to have been taken in himself by the story, and he was more animated then Harry had ever thought he could be. There was a range of emotion hidden behind that callous exterior that was slowly seeping out, possibly without Snape even realizing it himself.  
  
"So James approached me and asked me straight out what was going on. He was polite enough about it, but my rage had festered inside of me for so long and would not be quelled. I got right in face, nose to nose, and told him how I planned on stealing Lily away from him. I have no I idea what else I said, but eventually it was more then James could take. He challenged me to a duel at midnight by the Whomping Willow. I was no match against James with a wand, but I was blind with fury. I accepted and we both stormed off."  
  
"No way," Harry raised a hand in protest, "My father would never have staked my mother in a wand duel."  
  
"It really wasn't about that," Snape smiled, "I doubt either of us was thinking along those lines. I know I wasn't. It wasn't until just before the duel itself that it even crossed my mind. Not that Lily would have ever allowed herself to be wagered. I imagine that at the time James and I merely wanted to rip each other into pieces."  
  
"Kind of like me and Malfoy?" Harry mused.  
  
"Very much so," Snape replied, staring out the window. He looked sedated to Harry, as if the memory of his mother was numbing the angry inside of him, "But I can tell you, I had enough contempt for James Potter to match both you and Draco's combined."  
  
"So what happened?" Harry pleaded for more.  
  
"Come," Snape said as he got to his feet and grabbed his cloak.  
  
Harry obeyed and they swept out of the classroom and headed out of the dungeons. Snape strode through the halls and up the stairs at a mad pace, as if he were trying to catch something. It was all Harry could do to keep up. Soon, they came to the front gate of the school. Ron and Hermoine were sitting on the floor just inside the building, looking bored and impatient.  
  
"Where are you going?" Ron and Hermoine asked simultaneously, clearly confused by seeing Harry with Snape.  
  
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.  
  
"Back in time," Snape replied, and without breaking pace, strode out into the summer sun.  
  
"Sorry guys, I'll be right back," Harry called back to them as he rushed out behind Snape.  
  
They walked across the grounds, and soon Harry understood exactly where they were going. They cleared a hill and the Whomping Willow came into view. It looked like it was busying itself swatting away birds trying to nest in it like they were flies. Snape stopped just out of reach of the temperamental tree and stared up at it quietly. Harry watched Snape curiously, as if he was seeing him for the first time.  
  
"That duel was some twenty-five years ago," Snape took a deep breath, and started walking a wide circle around the Whomping Willow, "But every time I come near this tree it all floods back to me. The muddy ground under my feet, the stiff winter wind whipping at my face. A lot of events were set into motion that night, one way or another, for better or worse."  
  
Snape closed his eyes and began muttering inaudibly under his breath. He craned his neck up at the blaring sun overhead. It almost looked to Harry like he was praying. When nothing happened, Harry thought that maybe he was, but soon the area around them started to change. The faintest ghosts of figures and shapes took form around them. Even the Whomping Willow itself seemed to have a translucent shadow. The color slowly faded around them and a false night, complete with stars and the song of crickets, enveloped the area surrounding the Whomping Willow. The darkness spread further and further until it faded into the bright day they had left behind. The Willow reached out and groped its shadow playfully with its thick limbs.  
  
Harry caught something out of the corner of his eye. Something had joined them in the dimness of Snape's manifest thoughts. It was a tall, thin boy with limp, oily hair and a sour disposition. It could only have been a young Severus Snape.  
  
"Are you ready, Mr. Potter?" Snape muttered, his eyes still closed, "We going to take a trip." 


End file.
